I drank claret without restraint for six weeks
I coated my throat with pepper in order to enjoy
The claret better. My funds grew low. I felt idle, my throat
Continued to hurt. I ended my relations with Isabella
Jones. If I have ever met a woman whom I really
Think would like to be married to a poem
And would like to be given away by a novel: Isabella Jones,
Of whom I have had no libidinous thought
Until provoked by her, when we drank whiskey
In her rooms, and had a curious feast.
She gave me a pheasant to take away, but to this day
I don't know who caught whom; nor what the game was.
A large Cayenne: photo by André Karwath, 2004
Pheasant Fowling: "Showing how to catch Pheasants": from the Livre du Roy Modus, 14th c.
from TC: Junkets on a Sad Planet: Scenes from the Life of John Keats